Pavlov's Little Helper

Victims of the marketing machine we are. Trapped by its powers. To Tesco I did walk tonight, with my wife by my side. For semolina we did travel. Semolina and milk.

On arriving I was beguiled by a sign offering to sell me something I already decided I did not want. I restrained myself, briefly.

I came home and ate tapioca pudding (the semolina was for some other, more mysterious, yet to be revealed treat) and shot some virtual Russians. Maisie enjoyed it too much, I think.

I promise(*) not to do it again.

(* Standard disclaimer - digital promise edition - applies.)